


It's Not A Fashion Statement, It's A Deathwish

by Doodlelupin



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: (his dysphoria talking he misgenders himself a little bit so tw for that), Anxiety, Author Projecting onto Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, F/M, Gender Dysphoria, Haircuts, He/Him Pronouns For Nonbinary Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Misgendering, Nonbinary Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, University era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:21:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29097198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doodlelupin/pseuds/Doodlelupin
Summary: Jon's hair is getting a bit too long. Time for a breakdo- I mean- haircut!
Relationships: Georgie Barker/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 14
Kudos: 60





	It's Not A Fashion Statement, It's A Deathwish

**Author's Note:**

> oh just for specification jon is masc-leaning nonbinary so he's cool with masculine terms and wants to look somewhere between androgynous and masculine ok enjoyyy

Jon ran his hand over the back of his neck. He made a fist in the hair at the back of his head. Too much. He couldn’t stand the feeling of the hair at the base of his neck. He sighed and set his laptop down, heading into the bathroom.

He stared into the mirror. Looking back at him was a person who looked tired. Thin. Dark circles under his eyes. He looked...androgynous. For the most part. His face itself was alright; his hair was the real problem here. He messed with the front of it, trying to make it look flawlessly messy like he wanted it to look. It never turned out quite right. He tugged at the hair on the nape of his neck, getting flashbacks to the bob he’d sported before he could work up the courage for The Big Chop. He shuddered, pulling out the clippers. It had to go.

Last time he’d gotten a haircut they’d given him an undercut, cutting the top bit just above his ears. He liked having enough hair on top to pull back in a ponytail or at the very least tuck behind his ears, but sometimes his dysphoria wouldn’t allow it.

He had cut his own hair before. As long as he kept it at a trim it usually turned out alright. And if it was truly awful, he could just ask Georgie to fix it.

He shut the door and pulled off his shirt. He was going to have to have a shower afterwards to get all the loose hair off anyway. He pulled out his phone and put on a playlist simply labelled “Gender”. Half of the songs had nothing to do with gender but they just _felt_ gender somehow. Seemed like an appropriate occasion for the playlist.

Jon plugged in the clippers and got to work. This was the easy part. All he had to do was hold the rest of his hair out of the way and run the clippers up and down the back of his head, following the line from the last time he’d had it cut. He shook off the clippers into the sink every once in a while to get the hair off.

He had to pause to take off his glasses, doing most of the work behind his ears by touch. When he felt like it was relatively even, he gave it a once over. So much better already. He breathed a sigh of relief. Now to deal with the top bit…

He put the clippers away and got the scissors out of the medicine cabinet. His hair had a slight curl to it. It could probably be properly curly if he ever bothered to figure out how to take care of it properly, but he figured it’d be too much work. He ran his hands under the tap before running his fingers through his hair, wetting it a bit to get it to sit flatter. And without thinking about it he just started snipping.

At first he’d tried to follow the straight line the barber had cut last time but he quickly abandoned that plan. Instead, he started going for rough layers. Hopefully he could pull off a sort of messy cut.

As Jon worked, he started feeling his hope slip away. It was practically impossible for him to see the back of his head. How was he supposed to hold a mirror, the scissors, and his hair at the same time? He was once again operating mostly on touch, which wasn’t doing him so well this time.

He was basically just hacking at his hair with reckless abandon. He couldn’t tell if he was feeling anxious or desperate or nothing at all. He snipped and snipped, laughing every once in a while at the length of the curls floating down into the sink. He was ceasing to care about how it turned out. He was trying to distance himself from hope. It wasn’t going to be great. He’d just live with it.

At some point, he decided it was good enough. The front was relatively even, though he was pretty sure the back was pretty awful. At least it was shorter. He put the scissors away and wiped down the sink, tossing a handful of hair into the bin. He’d hoover later.

He turned on the shower and turned out the light. His dysphoria had only gotten worse and he didn’t think he was going to be able to stand looking at his body. He pulled off the rest of his clothes and tossed them in the corner, set his glasses down on the edge of the sink and carefully stepped into the shower. 

He felt around for his shampoo. Luckily, the bottles were distinctive enough he could tell them apart without looking. He tried to focus on the scent of coconut, the heat of the water, and the lyrics of the music he hadn’t turned off rather than how little he had to move his hands to reach the ends of his hair.

He showered as quickly as he could. He needed more than the music to distract himself from what he’d just done. Now that he'd put the scissors down he was feeling his anxiety return. He dried off and dressed in the dark. He wanted to leave without looking but he couldn’t help it. He flicked the light on.

It wasn’t... _horrible._ He definitely could’ve done worse. He fussed with it, messing it around. He wouldn’t really know how it turned out until it dried, but he felt a little better than he had a minute ago. He scrunched it a bit, hoping to give it a bit of curl to hide the unevenness. When he was satisfied he’d done as much as he could, he went and sat in his room. He put on a movie to take his mind off it while it dried.

* * *

The credits rolled. Jon finally allowed himself to reach up and check if his hair was dry. It was. He took a deep breath and headed to the bathroom. He stopped just before he could see himself in the mirror, bracing himself. He looked.

A pixie cut. His stomach dropped. He’d given himself a pixie cut.

“You look like a woman…” He whispered to himself in horror. He reached up and tried to fix his hair into anything else but the damage had been done. He was so close to pulling out the clippers and just shaving it all off but he knew he needed to give himself a minute to process. He stared for a few seconds before it became too much.

He grabbed a hoodie from his bedroom, pulling the hood up so he wouldn't have to think about his hair anymore. He was trying not to panic.

“Georgie can fix it. She’ll make it look okay. And if she doesn’t you can try out a buzz cut. You’ve always been curious about how you’d look with a buzz cut. It’s fine. You can always steal her beanies.” Jon muttered to himself, shaking his hands to try to stim out his anxiety. 

He checked the time. She wouldn’t be home from class for another hour still. He groaned impatiently. He needed to pass the time _somehow_. He reached into his closet and got out some knitting needles and a ball of yarn. His grandmother had taught him how to knit when he was a kid, and he found it was a very good way to occupy his hands when he was feeling anxious. He didn’t really plan on making anything specific. Maybe he’d knit Georgie another scarf. 

He sat in the living room and pulled a pillow into his lap. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, music still playing. He turned it up louder and sang along while he cast on.

* * *

“Honey, I’m home!” Georgie called.

“Hey!” Jon replied, his heart jumping into his throat. He paused the music. _She’s going to see what you did and laugh at how stupid you were to think you could do something competently. She’s going to take pictures and send them to everyone you know. She’s going to realize how feminine you look and dump you on the spot._ Jon balled his hands into fists.

 _If she did that,_ I _would dump_ her. Jon countered his unhelpful thoughts. _She might laugh, but not_ at _you. She’ll help you fix it. She won't take pictures because she knows how anxious you are. And she’s bisexual you nitwit. She’d like you even if you were a woman-which you’re_ not.

“Are you cold?” Georgie asked when she entered the living room, pointing at the hoodie.

“Ah...no. I cut my hair.”

“That bad?” Georgie laughed. “Well go on, let’s see it.”

“I...um…” Jon brought his hand up to his hood, hesitating.

“If it’s _that_ bad, I’ll help you fix it.” Georgie responded, stepping closer to him. The calm in her voice gave him enough confidence to pull back the hood. She laughed. He felt his face flush, his eyes and stomach dropping.

“No, no! Babe, I’m not laughing at your hair!” Georgie giggled, kneeling in front of him and taking his face in her hands. She kissed the tip of his nose to get him to look at her. “I was laughing at your dramatics. It looks fine!”

“I-It does?” He asked, confused.

“It’s a bit messy but it honestly looks fine.” Georgie nodded. “It’s just your anxiety talking.”

“And dysphoria.” He mumbled.

“How is _shorter_ hair making you more dysphoric?” Georgie asked, confused tone rather than judgmental.

“It’s a pixie cut.” Jon whined.

“Gerard Way had a pixie cut.”

“Gerard Way pulled it off.”

“ _Jonathan Sims._ ” Georgie scolded. She got to her feet and took him by the hand, pulling him with her to the bathroom.

“Look at him. Look at that pretty man.” She pointed at the mirror, switching between looking him in the eye and looking at his reflection. He grinned at the rush of gender euphoria. She ruffled his hair. “You look great, hon. I promise. Very androgynous.”

“A-Are you sure?” Jon asked softly.

“ _Yes._ My boyfriend is the hottest man around.” She tilted his face away from the mirror and towards her. She smiled at him before kissing him. He did a poor job kissing her back. He was smiling too hard.

Georgie pulled away, holding his face. She tilted his head to either side, looking hard.

“What are you doing?” Jon laughed.

“I mean, if you’re really worried about it being a pixie cut…” She said, releasing his face. She got out the scissors and turned back to him, using her free hand to guide his head over the sink. She carefully slid the scissors under the hair in front of his right ear. Jon couldn’t see what she was doing but he trusted her. He heard a snip. She walked behind him and turned him around, doing the same with his left side.

“How’s that?” She asked. Jon looked in the mirror. All she’d done was snip the points off the hair in front of his ears but-

“You fixed it!” He gasped, tilting his head left and right to take it in. It looked so much less like a pixie cut now. The flood of relief that washed through his body was too much. He pulled  _ her _ in for a kiss this time.

“You’re welcome. Now clean up the sink.” She grinned, kissing him on the cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> no this was not inspired by anything *pulls hood up*
> 
> also i added a little extra at the end god bless @kaiserkorresponds for the tip about...the tips lmaoo
> 
> the title is an mcr song that is on /my/ gender playlist


End file.
